misogyny and miniskirts
by FangirlSupreme
Summary: The Black Tapes. In which Richard Strand is floored by Alex in a miniskirt, reluctant about an interview, and almost throws someone out of a window.


"Why are we interviewing this man again?" Richard asks.

"Because we think he might be the key to finding Thomas Warren," Alex replies.

"Alright, but that doesn't explain the obscenely short skirt you're wearing."

She frowns. "It's not _obscene,_ " she says, affronted as she tugs at the hem of aforementioned skirt, "It's a micromini. It's supposed to be like this." She glances down. "Do you think it looks bad?"

"I didn't say that it looked bad, I just…" He trails off as she twirls experimentally on her heel, stumbling a bit on her strappy pumps.

It doesn't look bad at all, honestly. She looks...well, he can't think of a word in the English language that accurately describes how she looks.

Maybe it's just that he never realized how long her legs are, or how she looks with her hair done like an old Hollywood starlet from the 1940s.

"It's...a bit unlike you, and...rather casual," he says carefully.

She rolls her eyes and laughs. "You sound like Nic, except he was rude and said I looked ' _unprofessional.'_ Amalia wears this stuff to her interviews all the time and no one cares, but when _I_ do it-"

"I didn't say it wasn't flattering, I just-why?" He's fumbling over his words like an idiotic teenage boy, all because Alex Reagan decided to wear an extraordinarily short skirt.

Because it's so uncharacteristic of her, that is, and certainly not because he's utterly moonstruck or anything of the sort.

"This guy is supposed to be a trademark misogynist,"Alex answers. "And we're using that to our advantage- wait, flattering?"

"Misogynist? And we're going to interview him, _willingly,_ might I add?" He ignores her echoing of the unintentional compliment.

"Correction _. I'm_ going to interview him, albeit I'll be acting like a total airhead because it assuages his ego and we'll get more information out of him. You're going to sit there and, well-" She makes some sort of odd gesture with her hands. "Let's just say that he can't sexually harass me as much with you sitting there."

His expression sours, and she catches it.

"You aren't jealous, are you?"

He scoffs. "I don't get jealous."

"Riiight," she says, whispering the words " _Tannis Braun_ " in between fake coughs.

He bristles a bit. "That's not- it wasn't- Alex, I don't want to sit there and listen to some sexist insult you."

"Welcome to the world of being a woman, my dear Dr. Strand," she says dryly. "Now come on, we've got an appointment to keep."

He has a very bad feeling about this.

* * *

The interview doesn't go as badly as Strand thought it would.

It's even _worse_ , which is astonishing seeing as he'd already predicted that it would be catastrophic.

They bypass a miserable-looking secretary and walk up to the office of one Nathan Paulson, who strides out to greet them, and just by looking at him, Strand already feels a distinct sense of irrational dislike.

Well, it might not be irrational. Alex did say he was a misogynist; in his book that warrants dislike.

Nathan Paulson looks like the kind of man Ruby would call "sketchy," unless he's misinterpreting her more modern vocabulary. His blond hair is gelled, meticulously, as if he doesn't care how it truly looks. A Bluetooth earpiece blinks merrily, illuminating the left side of his too-tanned face in a blue light, and he's clothed in what appears to be a custom suit, but the cuts are too flamboyant, the gold cufflinks on the sleeves too shiny.

Richard isn't too big a fan of the way he looks at Alex, either.

Perhaps the word "douchebag" would be more appropriate.

"You must be Ms. Reagan," Paulson says warmly to Alex. She gives him a winning smile that Richard knows is forced as Paulson shakes her hand.

"Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me, Mr. Paulson," Alex says, but Paulson holds up a hand.

"Call me Nathan, doll."

Alex's smile becomes a little tight. "Nathan it is."

Paulson's grin fades when his gaze falls on Richard. "And who is this gentleman?"

"This is my colleague, Dr. Richard Strand," Alex replies, her fingers curling around Richard's upper arm slightly. "He's here with me to help work out any kinks in the interview."

"Kinks, huh?" Paulson tears his lecherous stare away from Alex and extends a hand towards Richard, who grudgingly takes it, though not without trying to do as much damage to other man's fingers as subtly as he can.

"Whoa, you've got quite the grip, don't you, Doc?" Paulson chuckles, squeezing Richard's hand with equally unnecessary force. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," Richard says through gritted teeth.

"Come on into my office," Paulson says, really talking to Alex. "Right this way, doll."

He leads them through a wooden doorframe, and while the sight before them is quite appalling, Richard has to give Alex credit for not allowing the smile on her face to falter. He, however, has no qualms about letting the distaste he feels show as he sits in a leather chair across from Paulson's desk.

It's not so much as the various plaques on the wall detailing all of Paulson's successes as much as it is the large pornographic calendar hanging in plain sight. It's not so much as the picture of him and Thomas Warren framed on the door (although it is a bit ridiculous) as it is the proportionately incorrect hula girl bobblehead sitting on the desk next to a sign that reads _Silence! Men are speaking_.

"You know Thomas Warren?" Alex says, breaking through Richard's disgusted appraisal of Paulson's office. "Do you do a lot of business with Daeva Corp?"

"It's hard to do business these days without doing business with Daeva Corp," Paulson says, dropping a pen on the floor near Alex's feet, "Thomas Warren and I eventually decided to make our business relationship a little more solid, for the good of both our companies." He leans down to pick the fallen pen up, and his eyes flick up to glance up her skirt.

Richard may have only been suspected of murder, but he's certainly considering actually committing the act, just this once.

Alex doesn't miss Paulson's not so subtle and out of line actions either, judging by the way Alex's fingers grip her recorder a little harder as she sits down next to Richard.

"What do you believe is the key to success?" she asks Paulson.

Paulson chuckles, leaning back in his chair, his shoes propped up on the desk. "Well, isn't that original? You get that from a magazine?"

Alex forces her smile a little wider and Richard's knuckles whiten on the armrest of his chair.

"Actually, my producer wrote up my base questions," she says, "but maybe we should do the magazine thing more often; it'd give me a great excuse to read them. Anyway, the key to success?"

"You probably want me to say something dumb and flowery like 'never give up' or some shit like that, right?"

"I want to hear what you have to say, Mr. Paulson-Nathan," she amends at Paulson's raised eyebrow, "From the heart, if you will."

"You can't have a heart in business, doll. It's all cutthroat here."

If he doesn't stop patronizing her, Richard may end this interview with Paulson being thrown out the window.

"So you're saying the key to success is trampling down the competition?" Alex says.

"Precisely."

"Do you and Mr. Warren share that...innovative business philosophy?" she asks.

Paulson smirks, running a hand through his hair. A ring, distinctly similar to the one Coralee used to wear, glints on his hand. "Thomas Warren and I share a lot of things, doll-"

"Is sexism one of them?" Richard mutters under his breath.

"Did you say something, Dr. Stragan?"

"Strand," Richard corrects him with clenched teeth. "My apologies, I merely recalled that Ms. Reagan and I have a phone conference in a few hours. By all means, continue."

Paulson's eyes narrow at him, and Alex is quick to try and cut in.

"How often do you and Mr. Warren meet?"

"I thought this interview was about me, not about one of my biggest business partners," Paulson says irritatedly.

"Nathan, it isn't that you aren't a wonderful interviewing candidate, it's just that my producer has been dying for a meeting with Mr. Warren, and he's instructed me to procure a means to achieve that meeting with quite an urgency," Alex says, trying to defuse the tension with a small laugh.

Paulson's fingers drum on the desk. "Your producer put you up to this?"

"He and I do share a similar preoccupation with Mr. Warren," she admits. "We think he _and_ his business connections are an integral part of the story we're trying to tell."

Paulson is silent for a few moments. "Listen, doll-"

"I would be so grateful if you could help us," Alex adds. "We'd be sure to give your business a mention in our podcast."

"I have a lot of needs, doll. Advertising isn't one you can take care of."

Richard thinks the large window on their right would make a fine exit for Paulson.

"Well," Alex says, rising from her seat. Richard practically flies out of his chair, eager to leave. "It's disappointing to hear you won't help us, and this will certainly be an anticlimactic interview to air, but it's all in a day, right, Dr. Strand?"

"Indeed, Ms. Reagan."

"You're really airing this?" Paulson asks with disbelief.

"Yup," Alex says cheerfully. "Don't worry, everyone already knows that you're a world-class misogynistic dick."

Paulson begins sputtering as Alex heads for the door. "You can't just walk out in the middle of an interview!"

"Why not?" Richard asks. "You've given us nothing of use, and all you've done is waste our time." He opens the office door for Alex, but as she starts to leave, Paulson storms up to them.

"Waste your time? You've completely wasted mine! You're not leaving until I get a semblance of a real interview-" He grabs Alex by the arm, and her recorder falls to the ground before anyone can react.

He never sees her right hook coming, and Paulson isn't the only one blindsided by Alex's well-placed punch.

Paulson stumbles back and falls against a chair, holding his nose as blood leaks through his fingers.

"Are you alright, Alex?" Richard asks her, checking her over for any injuries.

"Yeah, I'm good," she says, shaking her hand a bit, her knuckles now a bright red as she bends down to pick up her recorder. "Mr. Paulson, you are a sexist piece of human garbage and I hope you go bankrupt in the next year."

"My lawyer will hear about this!" Paulson snarls.

"So will mine," Richard says, "and with your incendiary attitude plus our recording of this unprofessional encounter, I think the odds are rather in our favor." Turning to Alex, he says, "Let's get back to the studio and have a look at your hand to make sure you haven't sustained any injuries from punching someone with that thick a skull."

"Sounds like a plan," Alex says with a grin.

Richard is quite willing to admit how gratifying it is to leave Paulson like this, even better that Alex is the one who put him in that state.

What he won't admit, however, is how he falls a little farther down the slippery slope that is his feelings for Alex Reagan.


End file.
